


Return to Service

by rosecake



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Bondage, F/M, Femdom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-03
Updated: 2019-11-03
Packaged: 2021-01-21 02:29:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21292133
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosecake/pseuds/rosecake
Summary: Thrawn finally returns to his rightful place.
Relationships: Ar'alani/Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo
Comments: 2
Kudos: 25
Collections: Femdom Exchange 2019





	Return to Service

**Author's Note:**

  * For [xenocuriosa](https://archiveofourown.org/users/xenocuriosa/gifts).

“You should have come to me first.”

Thrawn could not see Ar’alani through his blindfold. But even after so many years of separation he had no trouble recognizing the sound of her voice.

“I did not expect my return to be quite so contentious,” he answered. He shifted, trying to face the direction of her voice, but his bonds had no give in them. All he could do was sit and wait for her approach. “I left under valid orders, after all.”

He sensed her as she drew closer - the sound of her steps against the hard floor, the soft rustle of her uniform as she moved. The slight heat coming from her body as she stepped in close enough to touch. He flinched as she pulled the blindfold off, the sudden brightness of the room stinging, and then flinched again as she pressed her fingers into the swollen skin around his left eye. She made a dismayed noise and then pressed harder.

“You were given a mission outside of Chiss space to get you out of the way before the Aristocra decided you were more trouble than you’re worth,” she said. “You knew that. You were told.”

“I knew you wouldn’t let them harm me.”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked him up and down, taking in the bruises and the lacerations across his chest and shoulders. Plenty of harm already done. “Well, I knew you wouldn’t let them kill me,” he corrected.

She was angry. He could see it in her expression, in the way her brows drew together and her jaw clenched. After so long among humans he had contemplated that he might have forgotten some of the finer points of Chiss body language, but really the two species weren’t that different.

“You are too careless,” she said, holding onto his face tightly, her fingers digging into his skin as she held his head up. As if he might try to look away from her for some reason. “Do you have any idea what it cost me to have you brought here? I might not have had time to free you if four separate families hadn’t gotten themselves tied up into an argument over who should get to play executioner.”

Sitting where he was, stripped naked and tied to a chair with Ar’alani’s fingers digging into him like a vise, Thrawn did not feel particularly _free_. “I am sorry, Admiral,” he said. She dropped her hand and turned away from him, but he could still see anger in her posture, in the bearing of her shoulders. “But things are bad everywhere. I couldn’t stay in the Empire and I had no place else to go.”

“The situation with the families is more tenuous than the last time we spoke,” she said, and that was difficult to believe but Thrawn could hear the strain in her voice. “You should have made contact with me directly,” she said, turning back to him. Her expression was gentler, more sympathetic, but as she ran a hand across his shoulder her fingers dub into the lacerations left by the interrogators. He shifted without meaning to, but the bonds held him firmly in place. “Although I suppose you’ve already faced consequences for failing to do so.”

“Are you going to untie me?” he asked.

“No,” she said, and when she reached for him it was only to pull his blindfold back into place across his eyes. He exhaled sharply as she settled into his lap, the weight of her against his worked over thighs making him groan. “I’m not sure if I can trust you yet.”

“Admiral-” he started, and then she rocked in his lap, the slightly rough fabric of her uniform dragging against his cock, and he forgot what he’d meant to say. He wished she’d left the blindfold off - it had been so long since he’d seen her, seen the sharp and graceful angles of her face. He wanted to see her. “I’ve given you no reason to doubt me.” “Haven’t you?” she asked, and he can’t read her tone from her voice alone. “You’ve been in service to a foreign military for over a decade now, Thrawn. And now you come back and don’t even tell me? You’re lucky I found out at all.”

She wrapped her arms around his shoulders for balance, and it strained his already worn muscles as she pulled on him, but he had no way to shift his weight or brace himself. And it had been so long since has felt her, or heard her voice - it’s been years without so much as a holo. Asking her to stop was out of the question. She was already upset with him, and he had no desire to upset her further. And he was hard with her rocking slowly against him, so agonizingly slow and the last thing he wanted her to do was stop.

“I will always answer to you first, above all others,” he said. They had the same goals, the same beliefs. He would always serve her ends, even if he did not tell her every aspect of his work. “Always.”

“So you do not consider yourself a Grand Admiral, then?” she asked. He could feel her breath across his face as she spoke to him, and he stretched his neck forward to kiss her, lips tracing across her chin. She jerked his head back by the hair, hard enough that he could feel something crack unpleasantly in his neck. “A rank above me?”  
“I have no rank in any army at the moment,” he said, his neck straining. “Not unless you decide to give me one.”

Ar’alani first kissed his jaw, softly, and then lightly bit into his skin at his temple, and then his jawline, and then, harder, on his throat. “You are a traitor several times over now, Thrawn. Was that your ultimate goal in all of this?” She was still moving in his lap, grinding down on his cock, and by now he was hard enough that she could surely feel it. “To fuck over someone else as badly as you fucked me over?”

“I didn’t mean-“ he said, and her teeth dug deep into the tender flesh of his shoulder, cutting him off.

“The Empire has a worldkiller now,” said Ar’alani, her voice low and, in his opinion, somewhat unjustifiably accusatory. “So tell me, how was that supposed to help us against the Grysk? Against the other factions? Or do we now just have one more enemy to deal with, this one with the power to destroy us in a heartbeat?”

“I gave you Vanto,” he said, breathless. Ar’alani slid her hands down his chest and he groaned, his hips bucking slightly, held back by the bonds. “And I gave you Brierly and Faro. The information—“

“Yes, yes, you are very convincing. You have always been damnably persuasive,” she said, bitterness coloring her voice.

She stood up then, and the loss of her hurt. He was so close, and without her he felt nothing but frustration. “Admiral,” he said, “please.”

He heard the hum of vibroblade then, cutting the ties that held him to the chair, and then she pushed off his blindfold so that he could see again. “Come, then,” she said. “Prove how devoted you are.”

She moved away, standing with her back to him, and it took him a moment to follow. His joints were locked up from being held in place for so long, and it hurt to stand, to step towards her. He unclasped her pristine white jacket and slide it off her, followed by her dress shirt, then her undershirt and her belt. She moved then, sat in her chair.

He knelt and leaned for her boots, sliding the back zipper down to her ankle and then pulling them off. “You’re out of practice,” she said as he started on her second boot.

“I’m only stiff,” he said. He stayed on his knees, reaching up for the claps on her uniform belt before sliding her pants down.

Ar’alani already had one ankle over his shoulder, dragging him forward until his face was in her cunt. Slick and dark purple and ready. He pressed his mouth to her, waiting for her to sigh. He reached for her thighs - the same as he always did, it was a ritual at this point, he knew what was going to happen and anticipation as much as anything kept his heart pounding and his cock hard - and was surprised when he slapped him. 

“No hands,” she said as he blinked. “Do you want me to tie you back up?”

Thrawn considered saying something to that but thought better of it, and he obligingly clasped his hands behind his as he mouthed her. He licked her along the soft folds of skin around her cunt, and when she sighed and wound her fingers through his hair and dragged him forward he pressed his tongue as far inside her as he could manage.

He didn’t need time to explore, to feel her out; he had been on his knees for his Admiral many times before, and he knew how her body worked, where her most sensitive nerves ran inside her. He had not forgotten these things, and he would let her know it.

“Do they do this in the Empire?” she asked. “Did you have to get on your knees for the Emperor, or - who else is higher than a Grand Admiral? Tarkin, I suppose?”

“No,” he said, moving just enough to answer, speaking against her thigh. “It isn’t considered proper. It is done anyway, but it wasn’t required of me, and I never felt the inclination to volunteer.” The whole time he’d been in service, here among the Chiss, it had always been Ar’alani. He’d never had to consider how he would feel serving anyone else. She had always been there, one step ahead of him. Always ready to save him from the executioner’s block when his plans got just a step too far beyond the pale.

He slid his tongue inside her again, pressing against her sensitive spots, until she was wet and her skin pulsed in that way it did right before she was about to come. He wasn’t surprised when she stopped him, pushing him backwards.

“On your back,” she said, and he obliged, the carpet of her office rough against his abused skin. She stayed in her chair for a moment, her legs crossed as she watched him on the floor. “Are you ready?” she asked.

He nodded, his throat dry, grateful for the frisson of pain against his back, the seizing strain in his muscles. If not for the pain he was certain he would have come the instant she climbed over him and sank down on his cock, tightening around him as she settled into place. He rocked his hips up slightly into her, unable to fully control himself, and she put a hand on his shoulder to hold him down. 

“Admiral, I—“ he said, very nearly speechless from the sensation of her riding him. 

“It’s fine,” she said. “You can come when you’re ready.”

He didn’t want to, though, not until she came first. Sometimes she’d finish and then leave, letting him see to his own needs however he saw fit. Sometimes she’d punish him for coming first by continuing to ride him even after he was too sensitive to handle it. Usually, though, she set the pace, and she could— and then he felt it, right before her soft gasp of pleasure, the way she tightened around him, pulsing. She went still until it was over for her, holding him in place until she decided she was finished. 

When she climbed off of him he was left slick and hard and wanting. She reached out for him, fingers running through the wetness from her own orgasm, and Thrawn stayed in place, not sure what she would do.

She looked him up and down, at his body, taking in the new scars from his time in the Empire. Some of them so old now that they were already fading - that was how long he had been away from home. And the newer marks, from the Chiss, his punishment for having left in the first place, or for having dared to slink back after so many years. 

“Was your time away hard on you, Thrawn?” she asked, sliding her hand down his cock. He was trembling now, so close to coming, and not sure how best to answer.

“Yes,” he said, honestly.

“I suppose it must have been,” she said, still stroking him. He stayed as still as he could, for fear that she might stop. “Time is hard on all of us.”

He came, then, as her fingers tightened around him, fast and hard, and Ar’alani let go of him all too quickly.

“Go clean yourself up,” she said, standing. He rose to his feet unsteadily, following her, ready to help her dress again, but she waved him off.

“You’ve been in the wrong uniform for far too long,” she said, her back to him. She was already sliding her boots back on. “When I see you again I want to see a Chiss, not an Imperial.”

“Yes, Admiral. Whatever you command."


End file.
